Gwendolyn Brooks Youth Poetry Awards 2020 Winning Entries
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Gwendolyn Brooks Youth Poetry Awards 2020 Winning Entries KINDERGARTEN ( p a ge s : 3 - 4 ) “Mama” by Hannah Ludlam – Sor Juana Elementary School, Chicago “You With Me?” by Asan Truss-Miller – Village Leadership Academy, Chicago 1 ST G R AD E ( pa g e s : 5 - 6 ) “Ducklings” by Charlotte Chung – Chicago Free School, Chicago “On the Rug” by Catherine Stanislawski – Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz Elementary, Chicago 2 N D G R AD E ( pa g e s : 7 - 8 ) “The Water’s Daughter” by Holly Murphy – The Children’s School, Berwyn “The Green Room” by Elise Brand – Francis W. Parker School, Chicago 3 R D G R AD E ( pa g e s : 9 - 10) “Frenemy” by Keya Dhungana – Lyman A Budlong Elementary School, Chicago “Winter Stuff” by Ava Rucker – Lyman A Budlong Elementary, Chicago 4 T H G R AD E ( pa g e s : 11 - 12) “Imagination” by Tal Margot Neiman – University of Chicago Laboratory Schools, Chicago “Linear Dodge in Green Leaves” by Luke Sindt – The Children’s School, Oak Park 5 T H G R AD E ( pa g e s : 13 - 14) “ONE OF THOSE DAYS” by Athena Gottlieb – Whitney Young, Chicago “The Ganges” by Karlina Tolksdorf – Fairview South School, Skokie, IL, Skokie 6 T H G R AD E ( pa g e s : 15 - 16) “I Remember India” by Joaquin Lannoye – Fairview South School, Skokie, IL, Skokie “I was told to write a poem” by Liana Smith – The Children’s School, Oak Park For more information and to submit a poem, visit ilhumanities.org/poetry . If you have questions, contact M a r k Ha l l e t t a t [email protected] . Gwendolyn Brooks Youth Poetry Awards 2020 Winning Entries 7 T H G R AD E ( pa g e s : 17 - 18) “My Grandfather’s Broken Camera” by Noa Stern Frede – Ancona School, Chicago “I am made of mess” by Zoe Harris – Ancona School, Chicago 8 T H G R AD E ( pa g e s : 19 - 21) “Mixed People Poem” by Katerina Isabella Catala Krysan – Montessori Academy of Chicago, Chicago “2020” by Sophia Memon – Ancona School, Chicago 9TH GRADE (pages: 22 - 24) “Paper Room” by Jolin Li – Walter Payton College Prep, Chicago “Pandora’s Box” by Anaitzel Franco – The Latin School of Chicago, Chicago 10T H GRADE (pages: 25 - 27) “My Dad” by Kaleena Vose – Oswego East High School, Oswego “Boys With Missing Flowers: Endangered and Growing” by Kamari Copeland – Gwendolyn Brooks College Prep, Chicago 11T H GRADE (pages: 28 - 30) “How I Use My “Black Privilege”” by Daysha Straight – Walter Payton College Prep, Chicago “The Oreo LP” by Allen White – Oak Park & River Forest High School, Oak Park 12T H GRADE (pages: 31 - 33) “Fears in exile” by Sonam Yangzom Rikha – Walter Payton College Prep, Chicago “On Etching Your Legacy” by Aanika Pfister – Lane Tech College Prep, Chicago For more information and to submit a poem, visit ilhumanities.org/poetry . If you have questions, contact M a r k Ha l l e t t a t [email protected] . 5/29/2020 IMG_20200529_164529.jpg Page: 3 Page: 4 Ducklings Baby ducklings are a coming, Baby ducklings are a coming in spring. Baby ducklings are a singin’, Baby ducklings are a singin’ well. Baby ducklings’ wings are yellow, Baby ducklings’ wings are yellow and brown. Baby ducklings see a great blue heron, Baby ducklings see a great blue heron flying around. Page: 5 On the Rug by Catherine Stanislawski Safe and snug Warm and cozy All around me Are my friends Teacher reads Us a story We are happy I miss school Page: 6 The Water’s Daughter I sit at the edge of the bay watching all the horses eating their hay I watch the water swishing in and out I love being the water’s daughter. I dive to the water I turn into a mermaid A beautiful tail, silver and gold So beautiful So bold The waves rush over me, just like the wind in a tornado. They crash, thrash and bash over me. I don’t feel them one bit. Clearly dad is mad. Page: 7 The Green Room She must like to read say the bookshelves piled with books. She must make art say the bag of markers in her desk and the clay bowl painted in glaze on her dresser. She must like dogs say the many dog stuffed animals and the dog poster above her bed. And she’s bold says the green room. Page: 8 Frenemy Look up at the sky, the darkness descends I wish that this grim boredom would just end The world is so overwhelmingly grey Time feels like it is running on delay Boredom makes my mind blank, like a plain sheet But this is the feeling that I will beat Sitting here staring at the dreary wall But I will never ever give up or fall Boredom will never ever be my friend My joy and happiness will never end Even the dark clouds have called it a day My sense of adventure whisks me away Everyone look at what's on arrivals My joy is back it is a revival Page: 9 Winter Stuff Hot chocolate in my cup I was following the snowflakes warm blanket on my face gingerbread man running away ice-skates covering my feet Page: 10 Imagination She swims in the air, Flies in the sea, Leaps onto the lemony drops of Golden rain. She whispers to the clouds, Calls to the wind, Reads the dents written into the Petals of the rainbow flowers. She seeks the smell Of burning parchment, Sings at the top of the redwood, Just over there, She lives where she wants, For imagination takes her everywhere. By Tal Margot Neiman 4th grade, University of Chicago Laboratory Schools, Chicago, IL Page: 11 Linear Dodge in Green Leaves Bright red cardinal, sitting in a walnut tree. He’s gazing serenely over the landscape. I saw him with binoculars. Tree trunk like a tube, It’s smooth with a lot of little bumps and rough in places. And this one is a melted candle, its bark is like shredded paper that’s been pasted back on. This old redbud with its crispy seed pods has about 500 blossoms. Here’s a shady tree Full of summery leaves even though it’s only May first. Radiant, neon, this color is saying ‘Linear Dodge’ to me. A robin flashing through the sky, so close to my face. This cardinal’s call is like an arcade game laser gun, Peeeeeew, peeeeeew, pew-pew-pew-pew-pew. The Norway maple has holes in its sides where branches used to be. The English Oak has Tiny buds that look like magnets from here. I’ll go back across the field. Earlier, in the winter, There were red berries on this tree, but these little white buds are prettier. There’s so much Shade under here. The leaves are soft, not like chenille, but silkily smooth like flower petals. This leaf smells like it looks. I’m immersed in green. I can kinda see the view, but the branches block Out all the bad parts. Wonder what kind of bird that is, sounding expectant and annoyed, Like it’s saying, Come on! What are you waiting for? Get that. Page: 12 ONE OF THOSE DAYS It’s one of those days. You know the type. Air so thick it makes you sleepy. A day where temperature and anxiety fall in a blender on puree mode. A day where false warmth blankets the air, but the chill still creeps up your back. You shiver violently. It’s one of those days where you open your mouth, to greedily suck up the moist air, but it leaves you more parched than before. It’s one of those days where there was a storm, and the ghost of lightning hangs in the air, making your hair stand up as you walk. It’s one of those days where there’s no sun, but your shadow stalks you anyway. It waits for the right moment to peel up off of the ground and strangle you, yanking you down, down, down… Page: 13 Page: 14 Page: 15 I was told to write a poem, for Poems in your Pocket It was from Ms. Smith And I knew I couldn’t drop it I tried to write a poem While sitting in bed But I couldn’t think of one So I tried the floor instead. I thought about it hard, But one didn’t come to me So I tried to change the subject A poem about what I see. But I couldn’t see much, Because my eyes were closed. And my room is kind of lame So I didn't want to be exposed. So then I just sat there, Wondering what to do. When it came to me, a poem! From a certain point of view A poem, Where you can see in my head, And I thought of that poem, The one you’ve already read. Page: 16 Name: Noa Stern Frede Date: 12/04/2019 Title: My Grandfather’s Broken Camera I am from my grandfather’s broken camera. You know, the one that used to take pictures, oh so long ago? I am from games -- word games, and decks of cards that are never full. I am from the dent in the wall from when I roller skated indoors and fell. That dent that we have tried to patch too many times, and now it’s just a lump.